Inside the mind of a prisoner... by the hostage negotiator held for five years in Beirut: Hooded, beaten and given five hours to live... my hostage horror by TERRY WAITE

Terry Waite, pictured, said he was chained to a wall for almost five years where he was badly beaten

Many will have wondered what James Foley himself felt during his captivity and at the point of his execution. Having walked along this pathway myself, and having been mercifully spared death, there are some things I can say.

Twenty-seven years ago, when I was deeply involved in negotiating for the release of hostages in the Middle East, I was captured in Beirut. The story of the events leading to my incarceration is complicated, but in essence I fell foul of political duplicity. I was promised safe conduct by my captors to visit hostages whom I was told were ill and one was about to die. I decided to take a chance and visit the dying man.

Instead I was thrown into an underground dungeon and, for almost five years, was chained by the hands and the feet to the wall and blindfolded when anyone came into the room. I had no books or papers for more than three years; no contact whatsoever with the outside world and was left in total and complete solitary confinement.

One night, quite early in my captivity, my cell door opened and I quickly pulled the blindfold over my eyes. The chains around my hands and feet were unlocked and I was told to stand. Someone took my arm and I was guided into another room. I was told to lie down, which I did. Then the questioning began.

My captors mistakenly believed that I was an agent of the CIA and threw questions at me about which I knew nothing. The questioning stopped and someone placed a pillow over my face and sat on it. Then I felt a searing pain across the soles of my feet as they were repeatedly struck with cable.

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The questions were repeated and once again I said I had nothing to say. Mercifully the beating stopped and I was told to stand. As I could not walk I was assisted back to my cell, the chains were again secured and I was left alone. As I sat in the dark, I do not remember feeling anger against my tormentors. Rather, I felt pity. Pity that anyone could be so cowardly as to treat a helpless individual in the way I had been treated.

Alas, the torment was not over. Far from it. One night, some weeks after the beating, one of the leaders of the group entered my cell. ‘You have five hours to live,’ he whispered. ‘Think hard. You have five hours.’ He then stood and left the room.

Terry Waite, pictured, with members of the Lebanese army in Beirut in 1985, two years before he was nabbed

It now seemed that I was approaching the end of my life on this Earth. For weeks I had been questioned and beaten and I was exhausted. At that time I remembered something I had read, I think in the writings of the late Carl Jung, the Swiss psychotherapist. He said that when one faces the extremities of life, allow your body to come to your aid and it will. Now, at this critical point, I understood what he meant for I lay down on the floor and fell asleep.

After what must have been five hours I was woken by a key turning in the lock. I tightened the blindfold and my chains were released. Again I was led into an adjoining room and told to stand still. ‘Do you want anything?’ a voice asked me. For the first time in my life my throat had gone dry with fear. I was not afraid of death itself, for that will happen to us all. I was afraid of pain. Will it hurt when the bullet goes through my body? I asked for tea and it was brought to me. I then asked to write a letter to my wife and family and another to my friends. I was allowed to write one letter which I did looking beneath my blindfold.

Terry Waite celebrates his release from captivity

I was asked if there was anything further I wanted and I said I would like to say a prayer. I recited out loud the Lord’s Prayer. Then I was told to turn around and I felt cold metal against my temple. It stayed there for several moments before it was removed and I was told: ‘Another time.’

Following this I remained in captivity for almost another four years, but the beatings and interrogations stopped as my captors told me they believed that I was a humanitarian, not a secret agent.

What I experienced, and what I am sure many other hostages discover as they go through the most terrible experiences, is a strength within themselves they never knew they had. They learn, as I did, to live for the day and not to allow themselves to think far ahead. They learn to control imagination and discipline their thoughts so they are not reduced to quivering wrecks every time a key turns in the door.

The experience is very difficult and there are times when one experiences terror. Of that there is no doubt. The most terrible uncertainties and agonies are felt by friends and relatives who wait on the outside, not for one moment understanding what the person they care for is undergoing.

Hostage-taking is a cowardly, grim and miserable business. However, I have enough faith in human nature to believe that suffering, while always difficult, need not destroy. Out of the most dreadful circumstances it is possible for unexpected creativity to emerge.

Shortly after the death of Ken Bigley, who was beheaded in Iraq in October 2004, I went to see his aged mother in Liverpool. She was not too well and confined to bed. I sat by her side as she spoke of the death of her son.

‘Nothing,’ she said, ‘nothing can describe what I feel at this time. To lose a son in such a way is terrible.’ Then she said something remarkable. ‘But my suffering is little different from the suffering of a mother in Iraq who has lost her child as a result of warfare.’

Terry Waite, pictured was held hostage for 1,763 days before his eventual release from captivity

Terry Waite was taken hostage in Beirut in January 1987. He was released on November 18, 1991.